


On Our Darkest Days (Sun Will Come)

by The_Plot_Bunny_Whisperer



Category: Glee, Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, BAMF Harry, Bad Puns, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, no magic, the Bitch Face is hereditary
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-04-29
Updated: 2015-09-07
Packaged: 2017-12-09 22:18:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 10,110
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/778607
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Plot_Bunny_Whisperer/pseuds/The_Plot_Bunny_Whisperer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>While his friends may not have realized that Kurt was home alone while Burt was in a coma, the hospital did. A phone call to Burt's listed next of kin brings to Lima, Ohio Kurt's cousin, Harry Potter. Lima won't know what's hit it.</p>
<p>
  <em>AU from Grilled Cheesus. No Magic.</em>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Not beta read.

_On our darkest day, when we’re miles away,_  
 _Sun will come, we will find our way home._  
 _\- Fun. Carry On_

-

William McKinley High was a breeding ground for rumors – everyone knew this. Privacy was a seemingly unknown subject to the school's populace when it came to the lives of students and staff alike. Whatever the subject, be it a new relationship, a break-up, a scandal, or even whatever argument had happened between Sylvester and Schuester in their weekly epic battle of wills, gossip about it spread like rain down a drainpipe.

So when a man entered the school, one who was tall, handsome, and richly dressed as this one was, information had spread about his appearance in the halls before he had even set foot in the main office. Though none had been close enough to hear what he'd spoken quietly about to Figgins' secretary (not even the irrepressible Jacob Ben Israel, who managed to appear wherever gossip for his blog could be found) that had him quickly ushered into Figgins' office, speculation about it ran rampant. By the time he'd exited ten minutes later and began making his way through the halls again with a steady and determined stride, it was rumored that he was anyone from a new teacher to Noah Puckerman's parole officer, despite the fact that he looked barely out of high school himself.

As he neared and appeared to be headed straight for the room of losers, properly called the choir room, the whispers grew even wilder. The rumor of the man being a parole officer gained ground, though a few wondered and whispered that maybe he was a music agent – though what he would want with one of the outcasts of McKinley no one could even begin to guess – and the gossip mill grew in strength as it did on a daily basis. This unknown in their midst, however, either didn't notice or just outright ignored whatever whispers spread about him in his quest for the choir room, and so they continued even as he stopped in front of one of the open doors and knocked loudly on the doorframe to announce his presence to the occupants within.

Hoping to have something to spread, nearby students held their breath and pretended as though they weren't blatantly eavesdropping on whatever drama was sure to come about with this man's interest in McKinley High's Gleeks.

-

As for the Glee club itself, they were blissfully ignorant of the whispers in halls and a mysterious man as they went about the first of their daily meetings. Not that they were getting anything done, really. They were more interested in discussing the current drama that had befallen them this week – that of Kurt's father and Finn's possible future stepfather, Burt Hummel, having suffered a heart attack and fallen into a coma - and the fallout of said drama. Kurt himself did his best to block out their discussion of religion and holy grilled cheese sandwiches (of all things) without much success. Despite his insistence, they were determined that they should do something involving prayer and singing or any combination thereof, and ignored his wishes that they (and their religion) kindly stay out of it.

As usual, he was being overruled – despite the fact that this was _his_ father, not theirs, and his tragedy, _not theirs_ – and frankly, he just wanted them to _shut up already_ and leave him to his grief _in peace_. What he did _not_ want (or appreciate) were their attempts to convert him, and he was still angry over their impromptu pray-a-thon in his father's hospital room the night before.

Relief came in the sharp taps at the door which silenced the room faster than Sue Sylvester's random appearances ever did as the Glee club (minus Kurt, who had decided staring at the wall instead of tearing through his fellow Glee clubbers with teeth and knife-sharpened tongue was the better part of valor) turned as one to face the door. The sight that met them – all five feet eleven, dark hair, bright green eyes, and subtly expensive clothes of him – succeeded in keeping them silent. A rare success indeed.

"Pardon my interruption," the man said, eyes taking in them and the room in quickly and British accent thick enough to make a few of the girls swoon in delight (and Santana lick her lips lasciviously), "but I was told I could find Kurt here." Looks ranging from curious to suspicious fell upon him as he continued to look about the room, finally spotting the boy in question, who's head had quickly turned around at the sound of his voice and was now staring at him in something like dazed disbelief.

"Harry?!" Kurt gasped out finally, eyes drinking in the man now stepping into the room towards him as though he were the last oasis in the Sahara. "Wha… What are you _doing_ here?"

Harry, as apparently this man was called, smiled gently at him and stopped in front of his chair. Both Kurt and Harry ignored the wide eyes flicking rapidly between them as they looked at each other for a long moment.

"Is that all I get? Haven't seen me in a year and the first thing you ask is why I'm here? No 'hello' or even a hug for your favorite cousin?" Harry's smile grew teasing as he opened his arms, and Kurt made a sound none of the others had ever heard before, a sort of whimpered gasp, before diving into what was clearly being offered, his knuckles a stark white against the back of the dark blue shirt Harry wore. Harry's arms curled protectively around the sixteen year old shaking against him with suppressed tears, and the room at large sucked in a shocked breath of air as he ran a hand through Kurt's perfectly coiffed hair without being bitched at about it.

"Now, now, Ducky," Harry murmured softly into the crown of Kurt's head. "It's all right. I had to find out about Uncle Burt from the hospital – I'll have words with you about that later – but did you really think I wouldn't come if I knew?"

While the two seemed lost in their own little world, behind them the room had erupted into furious whispers that grew louder the longer they were ignored.

"Um, excuse me." The hesitant voice of Will Schuester finally broke through them, speaking above his students. While Kurt ignored him, Harry turned to look at him, neither of the two breaking their grip on each other. Will suppressed a flinch as the younger man's almost unnatural green eyes locked on his. He steeled himself and continued, lips turned in a concerned frown as he glanced quickly at his student, "I'm sorry, but who are you?" The man's gaze sharpened for a moment before he answered.

"My name is Harry Potter. For the moment, I'm Kurt's guardian as Burt Hummel's listed next-of-kin while he's in hospital." An eyebrow arched, eerily similar to Kurt's patented Bitch Face. "And you are…?" Will's frown deepened.

"Will Schuester, Kurt's Spanish teacher and Glee instructor. Sorry, but Kurt's never mentioned you before."

"I don't see where he would have," Harry said wryly. Kurt's laughed huff was muffled in his neck, though still heard. Kurt drew back finally and looked at the others, face slightly red and eyes moist from suppressed emotion. He cleared his throat before he could speak, his hands relinquishing their tight grip, though not outright letting go as he created a bit more distance between them.

"Harry is my cousin. Our moms were half-sisters." He frowned then and turned to his cousin. "Dad never told me he put you down as next of kin, though. Technically that's Aunt Petunia, isn't it?" Harry laughed.

"Please, Ducky. Those two can't stand each other and you know it. He called me up two years ago to let me know he was going to do it." Kurt gave a small half smile.

"I'm not surprised; I just didn't realize he'd done it. I guess if he had to pick anyone he would have picked you though. Dad never forgave Aunt Petunia for what she said at mom's funeral." Harry snorted in derisive disgust.

"I wouldn't have, either. Honestly, that woman has all the tact of a pissed-off badger." Kurt huffed another laugh in agreement. "Now, come on. I've told your headmaster that I'm removing you from school for the rest of the day, so why don't we get going, yeah?" Kurt nodded in silent agreement and stood, grabbing his things.

"Now wait a minute," a girl with long brown hair protested loudly, scowling in disapproval. "Kurt! School's not even half-over yet, that highly irresponsible of you!" Kurt scoffed and rolled his eyes while Harry looked at her with slightly narrowed eyes. She faltered for a moment before putting her hands imperiously on her hips and frowning at him too. "And you, as Kurt's guardian, are even more irresponsible taking him out of school right now!" Kurt faced her, mouth open to deliver a no-doubt scathing retort, but Harry's hand on his shoulder stayed him.

"I'm sorry," Harry said sharply, making her flinch back, "but are you a school official? No? Then I don't see what any of this has to do with you."

"Hey, dude, you can't talk to her like that," said a rather tall boy standing next to her in her defense, face screwed up angrily.

"Stay out of it, Finn," Kurt snapped. "This has nothing to do with you or Rachel. As _loco in parentis_ , Harry has the right to withdraw me from school whenever he wants for whatever reason. Considering current circumstances, it's understandable that he does so if only to get some things in order, as Rachel should know if she ever thought about things before spewing out self-righteous comments like that."

"Loco-what?" Finn said in confusion. Kurt rolled his eyes again.

"I'm sorry Finn, but Kurt's right," Schuester said with an uncomfortable grimace. "In this case, Mr. Potter does have the right to pull Kurt from school for the day, especially if he's already cleared it with Principal Figgins."

"Damn right," Kurt muttered. Harry nudged him slightly in admonition, belied by his small grin.

"If there aren't more objections, we need to get going," Harry said stoically, slinging an arm across Kurt's shoulders and leading him towards the door. "Again, my apologies for disrupting your class. Good day."

With nothing more to be said, Harry led his cousin out of the room, and further, out of the school as behind them the choir room erupted into chaos.

-


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kurt has a well-deserved break-down and Harry is awesome, as usual.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I'm not sure where this is going exactly, but it's had enough interest that I figured I might as well continue. Don't expect regular updates, though. =)

_Man, you wouldn't believe the most amazing things_  
 _That can come from... Some terrible nights..._  
 _\- Fun. Some Nights_

-

Behind the security of the darkened windows of his Navigator, Kurt finally allowed himself to break down in his cousin's presence. Harry gathered him in his arms again, soothing him with soft hums and running his fingers once more though his hair. He greatly suspected this was the first time since the incident that Kurt had allowed himself to truly _mourn_ for his father's illness and the possibility that he might not recover. Inhibited by the fact that with Burt indisposed Kurt had found himself having to take care of a great many responsibilities not the least of which included the house he had been staying in alone and the auto shop his father owned, coupled with school (and if he understood the nurses and doctors at the hospital) keeping vigil at his father's beside at all possible opportunities, Kurt would have been too busy to really sit and think of his circumstances save for at night in bed; nights which would have been filled with too much worry and unhappiness to get any true rest.

When Harry had received the phone call two days after Burt's admittance, he'd first been furious to have been informed so late, though his anger was tempered by the fact that the hospital had been unaware of the true extent of Kurt's circumstances until their own Child Care services looked into it properly. He wasn't angry with Kurt (disappointed, perhaps, that his cousin hadn't thought to call himself, understandable as it was); even still, he set his affairs as quickly as possible with the aid of his friends and arranged the soonest flight from Heathrow to Dayton via New York, and from there rented a car to take him the rest of the way.

Even still, he'd only arrived in Lima around two in the morning after nearly twelve hours of travel, and rather than wake his cousin he'd found the nearest inn to crash at, getting perhaps four hours of sleep before his alarm woke him. After showering, dressing, and check-out he was on his way again, this time towards the hospital with a pit stop at a strangely named coffee house for jolt of caffeine and breakfast. By seven-thirty he'd arrived at the hospital, where he stayed for nearly three hours filled with paperwork, doctors, Child Care services, and sitting with his uncle before he forced himself to leave.

His first thought was Kurt. He had to see with his own eyes how his cousin was faring, and with the necessary paperwork provided graciously by the hospital, it was no trouble to convince Kurt's headmaster that yes, Harry was in fact Kurt's _in loco parentis_ , and yes, Harry was taking him out of school for the day under the providence of family emergencies, and seeing how it was already Thursday, no, Kurt would not be in school the next day either, and would Figgins kindly have Kurt's teachers provide homework packets, thank you ever so much.

Of course, it could have also been his most generous _donation_ to the school that sped things along with the greedy money-minded man, but it wouldn't even put a dent in Harry's accounts and Kurt was well worth it. At the moment, however, he was just thankful he'd had the foresight to drop his rental off at the house and take a cab to the school. He'd had a feeling Kurt would be in no fit state to drive once he'd realized he _wasn't alone_ anymore, and could sit back and let Harry handle things and take care of him, as he'd always done before.

Being here, with Kurt in this state, brought him back to the days after Kurt's mother died and the two had crawled into Kurt's bed and curled up together, crying until their heads were numb and bodies exhausted. Aunt Elizabeth had always been his favorite of his two aunts, and every time she and Uncle Burt had come to England to visit with Aunt Petunia, Harry would spend the entire visit following her around with awed eyes and wish more than once that his mother had chosen to send him to America to live with her instead of Aunt Petunia. It wasn't that he didn't care for his mother's eldest sister – Aunt Petunia grew on you after a while, like a barnacle – but Aunt Lizzie had a _presence_ and shine around her that couldn't help but draw people in.

And at six years old, when he'd met his little cousin Kurt for the first time and he'd had that same glow his mother had, Harry couldn't help but love him instantly. Unlike Dudley, who was a few months older and ten times meaner than (and to) Harry, Kurt was just as naturally sweet as his mother had been. He'd known, even then, that Kurt was someone he would have to protect, and care for, and that's exactly what he did. He kept Dudley from pinching the baby that stole all of the attention, and as Kurt grew, kept he and his friends from picking on him too harshly, always making sure that any negative attention was drawn to himself. And when Kurt was eight, and Harry fourteen, and Aunt Lizzie died, he'd mourned as long and harshly as Kurt did and vowed from that day to keep Kurt from hurting as much as he had in that time if it was within his power to do so.

Only now, eight years later, all he could do was make sure Kurt was cared and provided for, that he didn't destroy himself by taking on responsibilities no sixteen year old by rights should have to, to be there if Kurt needed him, as he so clearly did in this moment. And, should the worse happen and Burt never recover, to make sure that Kurt knew he wasn't alone, that he would still have a home to return to in Harry, that the world hadn't ended yet despite everything.

As Kurt's exhausted body finally gave in to the sleep it'd been lacking with the help of Harry's soft humming and gentle carding through his hair, Harry made sure he was buckled properly into the passenger seat and drove them home.

-

When Kurt woke up, he first registered that he was tucked into bed in only his undershirt and boxers, his jeans, top shirt, tie, and jacket folded neatly on his dressing chair and his shoes on the floor. Second was the soft classical music drifting into his room from upstairs, the sound of someone moving around in his kitchen, and something that smelled divine to his growling stomach. Third, and most urgent at the moment, was the headache pounding at his temples one gets after a really good crying session and the dry, fuzzy way his mouth felt. It was then he remembered Harry surprise appearance at his school and his breakdown in the car, followed, he assumed, by his body finally giving in and sleeping.

He was surprisingly unembarrassed by it all, though perhaps not so, having been in a similar position before. It certainly wasn't the first time his cousin had put him to bed after he'd had a good cry, and really, it was a comfort to be in that position once more. Aside from his actual parents, Harry had always been the one to be parental of him when he needed it, despite the mere six years between them, and if there was anyone who was to do it now he'd want it to be his cousin. He'd missed him fiercely in the year since he'd last seen him; phone calls, Skype, and emails were not nearly enough when it came to the only other person in the world he cherished as much as his father. Carol was great, and he was honestly happy he'd introduced her to his father despite his ulterior motives, and appreciative of her efforts to comfort him the past few days, but he didn't really know her all that well and she wasn't family. She wasn't what he needed.

Quietly, he slipped out of bed and made his way to his en suite to wash his face and take a painkiller, before dressing simply and heading upstairs. He couldn't help but smile as he stood in the doorway to the kitchen, watching his cousin move about with the ease and comfort of one well-used to being in a kitchen. Harry was the reason he liked to cook as much as he did; he'd always thought Harry wouldn't be out of place in a five star restaurant somewhere, cooking up storms and wowing people with his food. Almost as though his thoughts had summoned him, Harry looked over his shoulder and grinned, waving him over to the kitchen table as he plated up whatever he'd been working on and setting it down at a place.

"Well good evening, Ducky. Sleep well?" Kurt smiled and stared hungrily at the delicious-looking fettuccini, taking a few bites before he answered.

"Yes, actually, thank you. I needed that." Harry's return smile was sympathetic, but not pitying – they were both similar in their hatred of pity.

"I gathered. You're free of school until Monday, so take advantage of it. And don't you dare sneak off to the garage," he said sternly, pointing his own fork at the younger boy. "I've had a talk with the gents there, and they're to send you home if you show your face for anything less than personal car maintenance." Kurt rolled his eyes half-heartedly and nodded in acquiescence.

"I promise not to work on the cars," he said obligingly. Harry nodded in satisfaction. It was an unspoken deal between them, but if one promised the other something, they never broke that promise.

"Good. That's all I needed to hear." The two finished their meals in comfortable silence after that, mixes of Beethoven, Bach, and Mozart playing from the iPod docked on the kitchen counter.

The clock on the microwave hit two thirty by the time they finished eating, and the two left the dishes to soak in the sink for later washing before shuffling into the living room. Harry left Kurt to settle on the couch while he picked a movie to put on, and then joined him once it started to play. They fell again into silence, Kurt snuggling into Harry's side as they got engrossed in antics of the eccentric Jack Sparrow and his hilarious misadventures, dozing off to the sounds of sword fights and canon fire.

-


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hummel house is invaded, and Kurt has his own Spanish Inquisition.

_I guess that I, I just thought, maybe we could find new ways to fall apart_   
_But our friends are back, so let’s raise a toast, ‘cause I found someone to carry me home_   
_\- Fun. We Are Young_

-

It was the knocking on the door that startled him awake. The TV was playing the Curse of the Black Pearl title screen on an endless loop, and Harry was passed out beneath him, using the arm of the couch as a makeshift pillow. The clock on the Blu-Ray player read 5:18 and Kurt stifled a groan. Glee was over, usually, by around four thirty, meaning the knocking could be any number of Glee kids, come to subject him to the Spanish Inquisition. Then again, Carol got off work at five on Thursdays, so it could also be her (and maybe Finn) at the door, but he didn't hold much hope for that kind of luck.

With a disgruntled sigh, he sat up and ran a few fingers through his hair, trying to put it in some semblance of order before deciding not to give a damn. He was at home, and comfortable, and wasn't going slip into any extra masks unless absolutely necessary. Harry grumbled in his sleep as Kurt stood up, dislodging one of his arms as he did so, and Kurt gave him a fond smile. Knowing Harry, he'd yet to allow his body to adjust to the time change, so he'd let him sleep until dinner (or the Gleeks, whichever descended first) woke him up.

He heard the voices before he got the door and rolled his eyes. He only debated for a moment whether or not to answer the door, but he supposed his choices were either that Finn remembered where the Hide-a-Key was or Santana (or Puck) picked the lock and just let themselves in. In the end he opted to just get it over with and opened the door with his trademark Bitch Face in place.

"Can I help you?" he asked the ten people on his doorstep dryly, canting his hip against the door as he eyed them. Santana and Mercedes responded to his look with equal "Bitch, please" faces.

"Move aside, Baby Gay, you gots some questions to answer," Santana said in her usual brusque manner. Kurt glared at her, but stepped aside to let ensemble pass anyway.

"Fine, but be quiet. Harry's sleeping and I won't save you if you wake him up."

"Please, like I can't handle some prissy Brit missin' out on his beauty sleep." Santana breezed past him with a cheerful Brittany linked by the pinky who wiggled her fingers at him as he passed. Kurt quirked a grin at her in return, unable to be upset with the airy blonde. Mercedes entered next with a hesitant smile, followed by Finn and Rachel, who gave him a determined but stubborn look. Puck jerked his head at him in greeting with a shit-eating grin, and Tina nearly jumped him with a quick hug before dragging Mike in behind her. Quinn just shrugged at him as she passed, and only Artie actually managed to look sheepish at just showing up on his doorstep.

Kurt shut the door behind them all and broke out in a wide smirk as accented cursing suddenly echoed out into the hall. He made his way cheerfully into the living room where his bleary-eyed cousin was scowling at the group that had just invaded his house with a dark look on his face that had all but Puck, Santana, and Brittany cringing; the first two out of some form of apathy, Brittany out of obliviousness as she stared, fascinated, at the movie title screen on his television.

"Ducky," Harry demanded as soon as he spotted him, "Don't these people have their own homes to infest?" Kurt chuckled and grabbed Puck by the ear (ignoring his cussing as he followed his ear off the couch he had apparently flopped onto, waking Harry up in the process) and took his spot on it.

"Sorry, I meant to warn you they'd probably plan an invasion, but it slipped my mind." Harry turned to the group as one and glowered.

"Go home," the twenty-two year old demanded flatly.

Rachel drew herself up, crossing her arms almost self-consciously across her chest.

"I'm sorry, but no. Kurt owes us some answers, and we have the right to hear them." She gave him what Kurt assumed was supposed to be an intimidating look that instead came out flat and somewhat constipated and quickly crumpled under what Kurt fondly called Harry's Killing Eyes.

"Kurt owes you _nothing_ , you self-absorbed little girl. If you honestly think that coming to someone's home unannounced and uninvited, demanding they give you answers you have no right to, I believe it best that I speak to your parents about teaching you proper manners. If you are unaware, as you clearly are, doing such as you have done is not only rude, but incredibly disrespectful not only to Kurt, but myself, his father, and his home." His Killing Eyes scanned across the group, most of them having the grace to look abashed at his words. "I am well within my right to not only kick you out but _ban_ you from this house until Burt returns to overrule me. However, as you are _supposedly_ Kurt's friends, I will let him decide if he wants to subject himself to your presence, and if so, for how long until I am allowed to turn you out on your arse." Rachel flushed brightly at his words and renewed her stubborn look on Kurt.

Kurt sighed heavily and rubbed a hand across the bridge of his nose.

"Might as well let them speak or they'll just come back later. They can be like cockroaches that way." Rachel looked triumphant (if slightly insulted), but her smug look turned sour when he continued with, "It doesn't mean I'll answer, though." Harry nodded in easy acceptance, and stood.

"I'll leave you to it then." He leaned down and kissed his forehead with a muttered, "You know where I am if you need me," before strolling out of the room towards the kitchen. The sound of running water a few moments later told Kurt that he was going to was the dishes from lunch, and then most likely start dinner.

Steeling himself, Kurt crossed legs and arms and turned a flat look onto the room.

"All right, talk."

The Gleeks looked at each other for a moment. Again, Santana was the one to break the ice.

"I only got two questions for you, Lady Lips, then me and Brit-Brit gotta bounce. How old is that hot hunk of man meat, and how do I gets me some?" Kurt laughed, torn between hilarity (because leave it to Santana to care more about getting laid than whatever the others had come over for) and horror (because, seriously, _eww_ _._ He did _not_ want to imagine his practically-big-brother having sex).

"First, he's twenty-two," Kurt admitted, carefully ignoring her leering grin, "and second, you'd have an easier time convincing Noah to never have sex again." Puck snorted, loudly declaring that it would _never_ happen. Santana looked considering for a moment, before she shrugged.

"Doesn't hurt to try anyway. Ready to go, Brit?" The blonde finally tore her eyes away from the TV and smiled brightly.

"Ok, San." She turned to Kurt and leaned down to kiss his cheek. "I really like him, Kurtie. He made you all shiny again. You were really sad, and I didn't like that, but now you're not so sad anymore. I hope he stays for a long time." Kurt smiled and stood to hug her.

"Thank you, Brittany. Me too."

With a short, "Peace out, losers," Santana took Brittany by the pinkie again and led her back out of the house. Kurt let out a silent breath. Two down, eight to go.

"All right, who's next?" he asked resignedly.

"Kurt, how come you never told us you had a British cousin?" Tina asked hesitantly.

"Yeah, he just kind of showed up from nowhere, boo," Mercedes added. "If you guy are really all that close, why didn't you mention him before?"

"It never came up." Kurt lifted a shoulder in a half-shrug. "It's not like we've ever really talked about extended family members."

"Yeah, but dude, you could have at least said he was coming." Finn looked gave him the same look as earlier in the week, when he'd confronted Kurt about having to find out about Burt's heart attack from his mom, an equal mixture of anger and hurt.

"I didn't _know_ he was coming, Finn, if you didn't notice earlier. It was much a surprise to me as it was anyone else. Honestly, I feel bad enough that I didn't call him first to let him know." Kurt plucked guiltily at the invisible pieces of lint on his sleep pants. "He shouldn't have had to find out from the hospital like that."

"Why not?" Finn's tone was scathing and defensive. "Mom did, and she's Burt's girlfriend. And _I_ had to find out from _her_. Why would you even need him to be your guardian anyway? What about mom?" Kurt glared at him.

"I really like Carol, but as far as I'm concerned, Harry had more right to know than _anyone_. I've known him since I was born, and before mom died I saw him at least once a month. He's _always_ been there for me when I needed him, and he's the closest I have to a sibling. As far as guardianship, not only is Harry listed on the hospital paperwork, but he's also in dad's will and has _actual blood ties_. Legally, even if Carol applied for temporary guardianship, because I have other living relatives the courts would grant them precedence. As much as I like her, dad and Carol have only been dating for a few months, and I don't know her well enough to want her to take care of me. I've known Harry my _entire life_." Finn's face was red by this point, and only Rachel putting a hand on his chest stopped him from saying anything else, and he backed off with an angry huff.

"What Finn's trying to say is that we’re just concerned," she said, trying to diffuse the heavy tension. "We don't know this guy at all, and he acted very irresponsible today taking you out of school like he did. And according to Mr. Schuester he's pulled you out for the rest of the week too! I mean, what about your class work? And Glee? We have Sectionals to prepare for!" Before Kurt could snap at her, Artie chimed in.

"Oh, right!" He twisted in his chair to dig through his bag. "Kurt, Figgins called me up to the office and asked me to give you this. Your cousin asked him to have your teachers put together your assignments for the rest of the week. He also said they all agreed to let you turn in tomorrow's work on Monday." He handed the thick manila envelope over with a sheepish grin. "That's actually the only reason I tagged along with the rest of them." Rachel deflated slightly like one of her balloons popped as her argument concerning responsibility was proven invalid.

"Thanks, Artie," Kurt said gratefully, setting the packet aside. He looked at Quinn, Mike and Puck then, pointing between Rachel, Finn, Tina, and Mercedes. "Okay, I get why they're here, but why are you here?"

Quinn shrugged. "Coach Sylvester asked me to check up on you when she heard some mysterious British guy pulled you out of school. She wants me to spy." Kurt shook his head, both touched and a bit amused. He may have teamed up with her to get Glee club temporarily banned from singing about faith, but when she did stuff like this, it was somewhat endearing, if slightly creepy. He guessed it was her way of showing she cared in her own way.

He looked at the two boys with a raised eyebrow, hands on his hips. Mike pointed silently at Tina, who smacked his arm, and Puck mentioned something about being promised food. Kurt rolled his eyes.

"Guys, not that I don't appreciate your concern, but you don't have to worry. I really could do with a break right now. So could you maybe just hold off on everything until Monday? I just want some time alone with my family. Okay?"

"But, Kurt…" Rachel began to protest. Mercedes put a hand on her arm and shook her head. Rachel huffed.

"All right, boo. You know we're here if you need us, though, right?"

"Yeah, Kurt," Tina said, nodding her agreement. "If you need anything, just call." Kurt gave them both a watery smile and brought them both in for a hug.

"I know, girls. And I appreciate it. Really."

"Oh, all right," Rachel pouted. "Don't think this is over, though, mister." Kurt rolled his eyes, but gave in and allowed her to hug him.

The group said their goodbyes, Finn still looking put-out and upset, but they finally left. Kurt collapsed onto the couch with a loud sigh, rubbing at his temples.

"All right there, Ducky?" Harry's voice broke softly into the air, and Kurt opened his eyes to look at his cousin, who was crouching in front of him. Kurt breathed in tremulously and shook his head.

"Not really. But I will be." Harry patted his knee.

"No worries, luv. What's say we go visit Uncle Burt and then go out and make someone else cook for us, yeah?" Kurt nodded, grinning half-heartedly.

"Breadstix?" Harry scrunched his nose in distaste but nodded anyway.

"If you want. Dunno how that place is even still open. Those twigs they call bread still taste the same?"

"Yep," Kurt answered, popping his mouth on the 'p'.

"Ugh," Harry scoffed in disgust. "This town needs better places to eat, Ducky, if _that's_ the best it gets."

Kurt grinned and stood to go get dressed, throwing a, "Then maybe you should open one yourself!" over his shoulder as he descended into the basement.

Harry's petulant, "Maybe I will!" followed after him and Kurt laughed.

-


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Carol meets Harry, and there is introspection and bad puns.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay! Notes work again!
> 
> Anyway, my eternal gratitude to my ass-kicker, AuroraSin. Thank you! =D

_Now I believe the sun, it's like a symphony._  
 _But what it's trying to play, I don't know._  
 _\- Fun. Benson Hedges_

-

It's on Saturday that Harry meets Burt's girlfriend, Carol Hudson. It's a somewhat awkward meeting at first. She had already been in the room by the time Harry and Kurt arrived, and their appearance had apparently startled her out of deep contemplation as she sat at Burt's beside with both of her hands on one of his.

The two eyed each other warily for some moments; Harry's face a blank mask and Carol's hesitant. Kurt guessed that Finn must have complained about his cousin to her, though that could have gone any number of ways. Carol was as protective and yielding to her son as Burt was of him – something Kurt assumed must come from raising an only child as a single parent – but she was also fair, open-minded, and objective. He doubted anything Finn might have said would have her immediately dislike Harry without giving him a chance to present himself, but as he'd told Finn, he didn't really know her well enough to trust that to always be the case.

Kurt cleared his throat, bringing her attention onto him, and gave her a small smile.

"Good morning Carol. How are you?" Her return smile was somewhat lacking in effort, and her eyes were red as though she'd been crying, or trying not to.

"Good morning, dear. Well enough, I suppose. And you? How are you holding up?"

"Better than I have been," he answered honestly. He sat gratefully in the room's other chair after Harry had moved it to the other side of the bed for him and took his dad's other hand. "This is Harry, by the way. He's my cousin, on my mom's side. Aunt Lily was my mom's sister. Dad named him _in loco parentis_ should anything… anything happen to him."

"Oh, yes," she said haltingly. "Finn said something about that. It's nice to meet you, Harry." Harry's smile was stiff, though sincere, as he shook her hand.

"And you. Uncle Burt's mentioned you a few times the last few months. You've made him happy." She flushed a little, looking flustered and a bit choked up.

"Oh, well, thank you."

"Not at all. Old man deserves a bit of happiness, and it's about time he's found some."

"I have Kurt to thank for that, actually," she said, smiling gently at the teenager. "He introduced us." Kurt turned pink, refusing to look anyone in the eye. His motives for introducing them hadn't been exactly altruistic, after all, and though he'd long gotten over whatever feelings he'd had for Finn, it was still embarrassing to think about. After all, introducing your lonely dad to get closer to an equally lonely woman's son wasn't something to be proud about.

Harry's lips quirked, eyeing his cousin from the corner of his eye. He'd had a good, long laugh about that when Kurt Skyped him about it. It may have resulted in his cousin ignoring him for two weeks afterwards, but he still found the idea hilarious. He'd done his share of crazy things to gain a crush's attention; Kurt, he had to say, took the cake with that one though.

"Yes, he told me about that. Rather nice of him, I'd say." Harry did his best not to laugh at the glare that was leveled at him, and decided to be nice – for now, anyway. "Shall I get coffee? Carol?" The swift subject change made her blink for a second, but she murmured her agreement and what she preferred. Harry's voice softened a bit, and Carol's eyes warmed at the obvious affection in his soft, "How about you, Ducky?"

"Please," Kurt answered, eyes trained unerringly on his father's face, face still a bit pink. "You know what I like." Harry nodded and politely excused himself.

With the door shut behind him, the slight tension that had been in the room dissipated and Carol took a real look at Kurt with assessing eyes. What she saw seemed to reassure her a bit and she reached across the bed to curl the tips of her fingers around Kurt's hand. When he didn't automatically try to pull away from her as he had all other times she'd attempted physical contact – not including the one disastrous time she tried to ruffle his hair and nearly started World War III – she carefully hid her elation behind a small smile.

"How are you, really?" she asked softly, and it was the earnestness in her voice that made him look at her and answer honestly, swallowing around the lump in his throat.

"I've had better weeks." He let out a self-depreciating laugh. "Though that's not saying much, really." Carol smiled sympathetically, patting his hand a few times before pulling back, delighted with her progress.

"I can understand that. You do look better than you have been; well-rested. I assume I can thank your cousin for that?" Kurt's smile reached his eyes this time.

"Yeah. Harry's a bit of a mother hen. Always has been. When mom died, Dad… well, he just wasn't himself. Harry came to stay with us for a few weeks, taught Dad how to cook something other than meat, and pretty much forced him to shower and change his clothes. It was actually kind of hilarious to watch him being shoved around and lectured by a scrawny fourteen-year-old half his size." The two shared a laugh, picturing it in their minds. Kurt tightened his grip on his father's hand and looked down. "He put us back together then. Now he's doing it again."

Carol felt a surge of warmth in her chest. While she knew not to take what her son had said about the unknown Harry Potter to heart, she had been concerned for Kurt. Not because she had thought his unknown relation to be dangerous (she thought she knew Burt well-enough by now that he would never put someone in charge of his son's welfare that he didn't trust absolutely), but because Kurt was becoming like a second son to her and she genuinely cared for him. Honestly, she was relieved to hear that Kurt had been pulled from school for a few days; if anything, the young man took his responsibilities a little too seriously. Now that she had seen Harry, and heard how he spoke to Kurt and how Kurt spoke _of_ him, her mind could rest.

She had not been insulted in the least when Finn had divulged, in equal measures of anger and misplaced jealousy, what Kurt had said about her. Kurt had the right, after all – he didn't know her well enough, and truthfully put she only really knew him through how Burt spoke of him, pride in every word. For a man like Burt, who loved and protected his son fiercely with everything he did, to put someone as young as Harry was in charge of his son was placing a great deal of trust in him. He wouldn't have done so if he didn't feel that Harry was responsible enough to treat and care for Kurt as he deserved to be, and she was beginning to see why he had. He had already done more for Kurt in the three days he'd been in Ohio than anyone else (herself included, she was ashamed to admit) had done since Burt's admittance.

She'd never deny, however, the small sliver of jealousy within her that rallied against how unfair it was that her own son could bond so easily to the man she _knew_ she would spend the rest of her life with despite their short time together, and yet she could barely have a conversation with her lover's son. She could only hope the arrival of someone Kurt obviously held in high esteem wouldn't further damage her attempts to bond with him.

When Harry returned twenty-five minutes later toting along a cardboard tray holding three coffee cups with the Lima Bean logo printed on them, the room had descended into comfortable, but worried, silence. Burt's doctor had barely come and gone, telling them the same thing he'd told them every day for the past week. Burt wasn't improving, but at least he wasn't getting worse, either. From the slight furrow between Harry's brows, he'd also heard from the doctor; most likely they passed each other on their own way to and from Burt's room.

"What is it with this town and strange business names?" he complained lightly in an attempt to lighten the mood, passing the cups out. "The _Lima Bean_? Really? That's not 'punny' in the least."

"Harry!" Kurt choked out around his mouthful of coffee. He swatted at his cousin, who adopted a look of mock hurt as he rubbed the place Kurt had hit him. Carol chuckled at the byplay, watching the cousins with amusement.

"Thank you for the coffee," she said, holding up her cup. "You didn't have to go out of your way."

"It wasn't a problem." He grinned, leaning against the side of Kurt's chair. "I wasn't about to subject myself to whatever swill they try to pass off as coffee around here, and Ducky would probably try to glare it into submission in hopes it would magically turn into something palatable." Kurt rolled his eyes, but had to admit he was right.

"The coffee here really is horrible," Carol agreed. She smiled at the twin grimaces.

"I'll take your word for it," Harry said with a disgusted moue.

There was little small talk after that, as for the next few hours the three stood vigil over the man they all loved. When they left the room as the noon nurse bustled in to do her work, Carol had gladly accepted the dinner invitation for the next night (as she worked Saturday evenings) at the Hummel residence, with a thought in mind to have a good talk with her son about manners and jumping to conclusions. Her heart lightened as she watched Kurt leave with a contented look on his face, his cousin's arms across his shoulders, looking the least guarded she had ever seen him.

-

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter: Dinner at the Hummel house, and Harry really hates uninvited guests.


	5. Interlude I

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lost inspiration for a while and my computer died. Finally got a new one. Just a short interlude while I try to pick up from where I left off, and figure out where the hell I'm going with this. I stayed up all night trying to word this stubborn bastard properly. You're welcome.

_But it's all alright,  
_ _Yeah, it's all alright  
_ - _Fun. All Alright_

_-_

The first real memory Harry had of Elizabeth Hummel, he was four and had just been pushed off of the swings by Dudley's friend Piers. The park near the school only had two swings, and neither Dudley nor Piers had wanted to wait their turn or ask politely, so Dudley (bigger, and meaner, and more forceful of the two) told Piers to get rid of him. Thus, Harry ended up in the dirt, with sore knees and stinging hands, valiantly holding back tears.

He was only four, but he was a very bright child. Crying, whilst therapeutic, would not actually solve anything, and there was no point to tell on either of them to an adult. He knew that while Aunt Petunia, Dudley's mom, would punish Dudley by withholding desert and scolding them both had she been there, Piers' mother would neither care nor tell on Dudley either. Mrs. Polkiss was a rather pinch-faced woman with mean eyes, and her husband worked for his Uncle Vernon, Dudley's father. 

Dudley was the apple of Uncle Vernon's eye and could do no wrong. Harry was simply the orphan that got dumped at his house that he was unfortunately related to by marriage. Mrs. Polkiss would never jeopardize her husband's standing with Vernon Dursley for a child the man didn't seem to care one whit for, and besides, the child wasn't hurt, was he? Boys would be boys, and all that.

Elizabeth Hummel, however, did not think that way at all as Harry very shortly found out. While he'd been pushing himself back up and brushing off the dirt, she'd been marching onto the playground with her cinnamon hair flaring behind her and fire in her eyes.

"Dudley Dursley!" she said firmly, looming over the dumbfounded boys (who certainly had not been expecting a scolding that day, it being Mrs. Polkiss's turn to bring them to the park), "You apologise at once! That was a very mean thing you did, and not at all acceptable. I will be telling your mother about this, you mark my words."

"Who exactly do you think you are!" Mrs. Polkiss demanded, red faced and huffy from her rush to get to her son. She took a step back, clutching her hands to her chest as Elizabeth rounded on her, hints of a nearly forgotten Scottish brogue creeping into her words.

"Don't you get me started, Gladys Polkiss! You should be ashamed of yourself, letting the boys get away with such behaviour." Mrs. Polkiss pursed her lips, a sour look crossing her face.

"Elizabeth," she said stiffly in greeting. She said nothing else. Elizabeth eyed her in distaste.

"I'll be taking the boys home now. Good day to you." Suiting action to words, she scooped up Harry in one arm and grabbed a startled Dudley's hand with the other, who immediately began to protest that he didn't want to leave, he hadn't played enough, he didn't even get to go on the swing, and she can't make him, she wasn't the boss of him!

She quickly sorted that out with a sound scolding that left even Harry's ears ringing. By the time they'd arrived back at Number 4, Privet Drive, Dudley was sulking and Harry had a new hero. 

Dudley did indeed lose his desert that night and was even sent to bed half an hour early for his behavior at the park, while Harry amazed at the fact that even Vernon wouldn't go against his wife while her sister and her soon-to-be husband were there. Burt was an auto mechanic, after all, a profession that often used exactly the tool Vernon's company sold.

Aunt Elizabeth told him a bedtime story that night, and Harry listened with stars in his eyes as his new favorite person in the whole world soothed him off to sleep with a grand story about distant lands with magical creatures and fantastic castles, heroic knights and beautiful princesses. He sleepily told her that she should tell the story to everyone in the world, it was that good.

"How about you tell it for me, one day," she whispered, and that was the last he heard as he fell asleep.


	6. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soo.....
> 
> Sorry? Apparently I already uploaded that interlude. *epic fail*
> 
> Anyway, for **Meganamcc11** , who left me a really nice note and made me remember I was sort of writing this. But apparently not enough to remember the shit I already posted. *laughs hysterically*
> 
> (You could've fried an egg on my face when I realized that. Srsly. *flail*)
> 
> Also, my writing style changed a bit, so apologies if it looks strange halfway through.

_You look for a legend, I'm looking for common ground._  
_Your heart isn't breaking, and mine isn't making a sound._  
  _\- Fun. Light A Roman Candle With Me_

-

Kurt couldn't remember the last time his house had smelled so good. He inhaled deeply, standing on the threshold and letting the scent of whatever it was Harry was making wash over him. It was an exotic scent, spicy and rich and comforting. Kurt was still feeling a bit weighed down with hurt and guilt and sorrow, but Hummel House was beginning to feel like home again despite that.

His eyes roved over the living room as he moved further into the house toward the kitchen, taking in the scattered papers, notebooks, and binders that littered the coffee table and part of the floor and couch. He clicked his tongue in vague disapproval, amused with the mess despite himself. His cousin had obviously been in the middle of something before he started dinner; likely as not, he still was. Kurt's slight OCD tendencies were raring, but he knew Harry would go frantic if he moved anything and spend hours spreading it all out again until it was back in 'order'.

Harry had a system – or so he claimed. Whether it was school, or work, or random thoughts and ideas, all of it would be written down in doctor-like chicken scratch and as littered as the papers he wrote them on, as though his thoughts couldn't bear to stay in one place. He could fill half of a room with paper before he was done, but he always somehow managed to piece everything together again like an intricate puzzle in thick notebooks (and writing people could actually read). He had always been like that, for as long as Kurt could remember.

So for the moment, Kurt ignored the mess and continued on into the kitchen, arms laden with the groceries he'd had to go out for to finish dinner with. At that thought, he grimaced. It wasn't that he didn't _want_ the Hudsons over for dinner, and in fact he was rather pleased as he was growing fonder of Carol the more he saw of her and how concerned and caring she was over his father. It was more the thought of Finn. He did like Finn, more realistically perhaps now that he could see him with objective eyes, long over his embarrassing crush on the quarterback. However, Finn's mind was easily persuaded and with Finn came Rachel (whom he knew, without a doubt, would be inviting herself to this dinner), who was highly opinionated, and right now neither of them liked the thought of Harry. Or rather, that they hadn't known there _was_ a Harry, until he had shown up in Lima and seemed to take charge.

Which was oddly possessive of them, now that he thought about it; but he doubted he'd ever understand the minds of Finn Hudson or Rachel Berry. He shuddered at the thought, hoping it wouldn't give him nightmares. He'd had more than enough of those, thanks to an over-abundance of kitten sweaters and plaid knee-highs worn in conjunction. Eugh. (One day, he would incinerate Rachel's entire wardrobe with a song in his heart and smile on his face, with perhaps a bit of mad cackling thrown in for effect.)

Where was he? Ah, yes. Dinner, which would not be pleasant if Rachel tagged along without an invitation. Showing up uninvited to things was becoming somewhat of an undesirable trademark for his fellow Gleeks, and yes he was ignoring the slight hypocrisy of that statement, thank you. However, it was also one of Harry's pet peeves, and while he would be polite about it in Carol's company and now that he'd adjusted to the time zone and caught up on sleep (and thus, less grumpy), he would not passively let it slide.

He eyed Harry's back as he finished putting away the groceries, wondering if he should mention little habit to him in warning. Watching as he used one hand to stir something in a large pot and the other waving around in the air like a conductor alongside Beethoven's Fur Elise blaring out of the iPod dock, he smirked.

Nah. Rachel would have to learn - the hard way if necessary - that when it came to being overprotective, Harry had learned from the best.

-

While Harry cleaned up his organized chaos in the living room, Kurt set the table. He set it for four, somewhat vindictively and with a splash of eternal hope that maybe, this once, Rachel would butt out or Finn would grow a spine. He wasn't holding his breath, however.

(He did allow himself a nice laugh when he saw the menu. Harry had apparently been listening very well during Kurt's various Rachel-Berry-is-driving-me-nuts rants, and had enacted his own version of passive aggressive revenge.)

At ten to five, there was a knock at the door. Harry was still organizing his mess, so Kurt went to answer. He was in no way surprised to see three people on his porch instead of two. Rachel met his eyes defiantly while clutching an equally stubborn Finn's arm. Carol had the decency to look a bit embarrassed for her son.

"Won't you come in?" Kurt said dryly, stepping to the side to let them pass. Rachel about frog-marched her boyfriend into the house, Carol shaking her head and Kurt rolling his eyes as they passed.

"I'm sorry, Kurt," Carol said _sotto voce_ , pausing in the entry way, eyeing her son and his girlfriend with something resembling frustrated disappointment. "Apparently, Finn _just happened_ to have forgotten he was supposed to take Rachel on a date tonight, and since she had already shown up and he'd promised me he'd come tonight, wouldn't it be a great idea to combine both plans together?"

Kurt tried very hard not to laugh at her dry and slightly sarcastic explanation. He'd never seen this side of Carol before, and he honestly wished he had. He just knew that once she and Harry were a little more comfortable around each other they'd get on like a house on fire.

"It's alright, Carol. We figured this might happen." The look she gives him is part curiosity and part amused. Kurt gives her a smile filed with teeth. “Harry has it covered.”

Carol puts her fingers to her lips, which is in no way sufficient to hide her smile, and the shared conspiratorial looks are full of eager anticipation.

The atmosphere in the living room reminds Kurt of something like a western showdown. Finn and Rachel had settled on one of the couches, still looking stubbornly obstinate. Harry, bless him, has mastered the look of I-Am-Not-Impressed, which is levied at full power on the two of them. He looks up as Kurt and Carol enter.

“Good evening, Carol.” Despite the brick wall his face is emulating, his voice is warm and welcoming. Carol smiles in response to it, tinged with a touch of relief and vague apologies.

“Hello, Harry. Are you settling in well?”

“Oh yes.” His face softens a bit as he returns her smile. “I’m rather used to flying, so I get over jet lag fairly quickly. A bit of sleep and I’m right as rain.”

“That’s good to hear. So you travel often then? For work or pleasure?”

“A bit of both, really. My pleasure trips more often than not turn into working vacations. Ah, before I forget my manners, would you care for a drink? We have juice, tea – iced and hot – as well as beer and wine.”

Kurt readily offers to fetch her choice from the kitchen, a pointed look causing Finn and Rachel to follow him, leaving the two adults to talk in the living room. He rounds on the both of them almost as soon as they enter the semi-privacy the other room, his eyes sharp with repressed fury.

“ _What the hell_.” Finn flinches from his tone as well as the words, finally realizing that perhaps he has crossed a line this time, while Rachel gasps dramatically. Kurt doesn’t curse – he as often stated that such vulgarities were beneath him – so to hear him curse now is something of a shock.

“Well… I mean, I just…” Finn stutters, trying to come up with some sort of explanation. He fails utterly and looks helplessly at Rachel.

“We’re just concerned for you, Kurt,” she states primly, pink tinging her cheeks. “You’ve never willingly taken time off school before, even with a hundred degree fever, no one knew you had an English cousin, and you’re pushing us _out_ , Kurt. We’re _worried_.” She crosses her arms in front of her defensively, abstinent and stubborn.

“No, you’re _nosy_ ,” Kurt snaps back. “Your life may be an open book to everyone you meet, but this isn’t the Rachel Berry Show, this is my _private life_. If I want to keep my private life, I don’t know, _private_ , I have that right and you – _none_ of you – have the right to barge into my home uninvited and demand answers like I _owe_ you something.”

She takes half a step back, her eyes wide in shock and a touch of hurt. Her mouth is open, but for once nothing comes out, impotent in defense of herself. Now that she’s looking – really looking – she can see how tired his eyes are, the bruises from days of restless sleep forming underneath his eyes, the tightness at the corner of his mouth from frustration at her actions, and the actions of his other friends. She bites her lip and draws into herself, looking ashamed and smaller than usual next to her equally ashamed boyfriend.

“I’m sorry,” she whispers miserably. “I didn’t mean….” She trails off feebly, unable to find the right words.

Kurt closes his eyes and sighs deeply. “I know,” he says almost gently. “I get it. Really. I do appreciate your concern, and I know that by this time next week it’ll be just one of those _things_ I’ll be able to brush off and laugh about.” He sighs again and eyes them both before shaking his head and turning to the fridge. “Since you’re here you can at least make yourself useful and get some glasses and the serving tray.” Finn deflates in relief that the storm has seemed to pass and grins widely as he turns to the cupboard with a half-hearted salute.

Rachel smiles hesitantly, already beginning to perk back up. “Thanks, Kurt. And I’ll make sure to apologize to your cousin, too. I guess this was not one of my finest moments, was it.”

Kurt’s wordless smirk in response makes her wonder if perhaps she is too soon in letting down her guard.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thus ends The Dinner, part one. The rest of the dinner will be in the next chapter.


End file.
